


The Shape of your Name

by starkaryen



Series: Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive Prompts and Challenges [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ItsStillBeautiful, Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:36:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7713478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkaryen/pseuds/starkaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fall, Will starts calling Hannibal by his first name. Hannibal doesn't know how to deal with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shape of your Name

**Author's Note:**

> The person who prompted me this wanted to remain anonymous, but THANK YOU for a) wanting to *ask* me to write this and trusting me, and b) giving me this AMAZING prompt. So thank you, seriously. You know who you are!♥
> 
> Also, thank you so much to Llewcie for betaing this and being so patient with all my typos, and to CarpeDiemForLife for also taking a look at this and finish polishing it<3.
> 
> Finally, this is for #[ItsStillBeautiful](http://hannibalcreative.tumblr.com/post/148067771429/join-us-for-itsstillbeautiful-what-is-it), the post-TWOTL anniversary fest. Join us this week at Hannibal Cre-ATE-Ive!

The first time it happened, they were both too drugged to fully realize it. Or, at least, Hannibal was. Looking back to that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if Will _was_ completely aware of what he was saying, and what it would do to Hannibal, as he had learned in time that Will knew too well what to say to make Hannibal react one way or another.

Through the fog the painkillers and the pain brought to his mind, he heard only one word as Chiyoh stitched his wound: _Hannibal_.

The last time Will had used his first name had been in the BSHCI. _I need you, Hannibal_ , he had said, his words measured and low, pitched only for him to hear despite the two of them not being alone in the room. _You’re our best shot, Hannibal. Please_. He knew Will was telling him what he wanted to hear. But Hannibal couldn’t have cared less.

This time, however, right before losing consciousness, Will’s voice sounded uneasy and concerned as he said his name. And it was all Hannibal needed to endure the countless days of pain that followed as they healed their wounds in a small cottage Chiyoh had procured.

A few months later they had left the cottage, Chiyoh, and the worst of their wounds behind, only the scars remaining, joining the ones that already painted both of their bodies.

The first few weeks they spent in the house in the mountains that Hannibal had once bought in the event that a situation like this could occur, Hannibal hadn’t been entirely convinced he wasn’t in some kind of pain-induced dream. Perhaps he truly had died that night in the Atlantic, in Will’s embrace, and this was his very own heaven. Or maybe it was his hell, and a demon would take Will’s place when least expected, snatching Will from his hands once again. But as fearful as he had been at first of everything being unreal, now he couldn’t find one shred of concern inside him anymore.

“Hannibal.”

The single word brought him back to present with the force of a violent wave, sucking the air from his lungs as he left the knife on the counter and cleaned his hands on the kitchen rag.

If Hannibal had gotten used to their new life rather quickly, he had yet to get used to _that_ ; his name coming from Will’s lips with such ease.

During the first years of their relationship, Will had always called him Dr. Lecter, and just when he had gotten him to use his name, everything had turned out wrong once more.

Will hadn’t used it much either while both of their wounds were healing, with Chiyoh wandering between the two of them in the limited space of the cottage as she tended to them, the silence having been their usual companion those days. But now, the two of them alone, Will had started to say it again. Often. Every time Will called for him across the house. The few times Will fell asleep on the living room’s sofa and Hannibal could hear his own name mumbled in his sleep. Every time Will touched him, brief contacts of a hand curling in Hannibal’s elbow, or a ‘ _thank you, Hannibal_ ’ when their fingers brushed together after asking him to pass something across the table. Even the single time Will had gotten mad at him when Hannibal had suggested going to the village for _supplies_ , a hissed ‘ _Hannibal… not yet_ ’, his name falling like a ton of bricks over him and lifting him up at the same time, feeling every single syllable in his marrow.

Now Hannibal turned away from the counter, taking in Will’s form at the threshold. He had just came back from his running, his muscles relaxed and both hands hanging at his sides as he took a couple of steps into the kitchen. Hannibal couldn’t help allowing his gaze to linger on the droplets of sweat beading on his forehead and bare arms, or the ones dampening his dark grey shirt. Hannibal envisioned for a second a dog beside him, panting from going with Will on his run. He had thought a few times about proposing the idea to Will in a couple of months.

“Yes?” Hannibal finally said.

“I asked you what’s for dinner.”

“Marinated pork tenderloin with potatoes,” he announced, wondering how long had Will been standing there.

Will nodded and looked at the oven, where the meat was almost ready.

“I’m making an apple pie too. I remembered that you liked it,” Hannibal said, smiling warmly at him.

Will huffed out a chuckle as he approached him, leaning closer to see the pie in progress. Will took a slice of apple from the cutting board and put it in his mouth as he straightened, and then he looked at him in the eye and smirked like a child who knew that he was doing something wrong. But Hannibal’s mind was very far away from the idea of scolding him, seeing the way Will’s mouth was moving as he chewed the fruit. Finally he swallowed it, licking the apple juice from his thumb. Hannibal cleared his throat and turned to face the counter again.

“You should go take a shower. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

He saw Will nodding out of the corner of his eye, then go out of the kitchen. Hannibal pricked up his ears and listened to him going upstairs and turning on the shower. Only when the bathroom’s door closed did Hannibal sigh, releasing some of the tension amassed in his shoulders.

Hannibal had told Will the truth that night on the cliff, after killing the dragon. That _was_ all Hannibal had ever wanted for the both of them. During all those years, before and during his imprisonment, all he had hoped for was to share with Will the intimacy they had shared that night: their minds and bodies in sync, their movements in perfect harmony as they slew the dragon. But Hannibal had never dared hope for anything else. Not when he had realized the extent of his feelings for Will. Not when Will had deceived him and he had thought they would have a new life together with Abigail. Not even after Dolarhyde’s death, when Will’s hands had found him and embraced him. And still there he was, getting nervous and almost babbling every time Will came close or called him by his name.

For a moment, Hannibal wondered again if Will was aware of how he made him feel. They weren’t playing any games now, or at least not like they were back in Baltimore. But still, he couldn’t help but wonder if Will _was_ baiting him again, even if he didn’t understand what for. Will already had him; Hannibal was his, in body, mind and soul. And Will _had_ chosen him. He could’ve gone away, or he could’ve killed Hannibal if he had really wanted to. But he hadn’t. He was there, with him.

After taking the meat out, finishing the pie and putting it into the oven, Hannibal set the table with the nicest cutlery they had, put on some classical music, and then waited seated at the table while he listened to Will moving upstairs. When he reappeared, the sight of him rendered Hannibal speechless. Will was wearing a dark dress shirt that Hannibal hadn’t even known he owned, and his hair was still slightly wet, but oh, so beautiful.

Probably for the first time in years, Hannibal felt underdressed, with the sleeves of the shirt he had been wearing under the apron rolled up and the slacks he was wearing being something he could’ve worn any day in the house. Will was striking, and Hannibal got up from his chair with a hasty movement as Will approached the other side of the table. Will frowned a little, probably at his behavior, but sat across from him. Hannibal served the wine with hands as steady as he felt shaky on the inside, and they finally started eating.

“This is _really_ good, Hannibal,” Will said after the first couple of bites.

“Thank you, Will.”

He took his glass of wine and pressed the rim against his lower lip as Will’s words resonated in his head. He considered once more the question he had wanted to ask him for such a long time. Will seemed unaware of Hannibal’s inner struggle as he ate, his jaw moving in hypnotic slow movements that pulled on the healed wound in his cheek. Hannibal made himself look away, and he took a small sip before setting the glass back on the table.

“You don’t feel uncomfortable being on a first name basis anymore, do you?”

The question took both of them by surprise. Or perhaps, once again, it only surprised Hannibal himself. But when he looked at Will, he was very still, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth.

“I think we are both past that, don’t you think, Hannibal?” Will asked. “Would you prefer me to keep calling you Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal took the napkin from his lap, if only to have something to do as he tried to calm his pounding heart. He felt Will’s eyes locked on him as he did that, and when he finally looked at him again, Hannibal’s lower lip twitched.

“No, of course not. I just remember how difficult it was for you to address me that way.”

“Does it bother you?” Will asked without any inflection at all in his voice.

“Will-” Hannibal started, but he didn’t know how to go on.

Hannibal searched in Will’s eyes, but he didn’t find any jibe in his words. And so, he knew: Will really hadn’t realized. Will wasn’t baiting him or playing with him, and if he was aware of how his words made him feel, it was just a knowledge buried in the back of his mind. Something he hadn’t dug out and examined… Until probably now.

Hannibal looked down again, overwhelmed by the possibilities and thoughts flooding his mind.

“ _Hannibal_.”

The single word from Will’s lips was enough once more to make him look up instinctively. Will’s eyes were locked on him, and they remained there for a few long, quiet moments in which the only sound was the soothing music coming from the speakers.

In another moment, in another life, Hannibal would’ve felt cornered by the situation. In this life, however, when Will set his fork and knife down and stood up, the chair scraping softly against the floor, Hannibal felt as if he was being liberated with each of Will’s steps.

Will circled the table in slow, careful steps, and Hannibal couldn’t do anything else but follow him with his gaze. Hannibal could never predict Will, as he had once told him, and so he wondered what the man would do next. But none of his guesses included Will sitting down in the chair beside him, their legs not touching by just a short gap, and looking at him in the eyes again, something Hannibal couldn’t yet identify in Will’s.

“I want you to tell me,” Will said, a whisper that probably not even Hannibal would’ve heard if they hadn’t been so close.

Hannibal felt for a second as if they were back in Baltimore, the two of them seated in front of each other, spilling secrets in half whispered voices. But now they weren’t talking in riddles, and Hannibal had a very clear idea of what Will was asking him. Still, he couldn’t say anything as he got lost in the pull Will had over him.

“Hannibal, I- I _need_ to know… from you.”

“Anything you want, I will give you,” Hannibal finally said, finding his voice somewhere deep inside him.

Will moved then, sliding to the edge of his chair and leaning much, _much_ closer to Hannibal, bumping his knees against his thighs. Hannibal didn’t move at all, but inhaled the clean natural scent of Will, now much more intense due to the proximity.

“Then tell me,” Will asked him, urgency dyeing his voice with roughness.

Hannibal looked into Will’s blue eyes, now darkened in the dim light of the room, but softer than he had seen them in a long time. For a second, it reminded Hannibal of when he had first met Will. Of the way he had trusted Hannibal even through all the walls he had built around himself over the years. Of the ease they had felt in each other’s company before the games, before everything. He also saw what he had seen in his eyes right before Will had pulled both of them off the cliff. And Hannibal felt his heart racing inside his chest before taking a faltered breath and parting his lips.

“I love you, Will,” he finally breathed out.

Will’s hands moved swiftly then, desperate fingers gripping Hannibal’s forearms as he leaned closer still. Will pressed his forehead against Hannibal’s and so he closed his eyes, not even having time to process what was happening, what _he_ had just said out loud, the truth he had kept buried inside him for such a long time.

“Hannibal…”

That time Hannibal couldn’t stifle a soft sound coming out of his throat, and before he even had time to react, Will’s lips were on his. Will first touched Hannibal’s lips hesitantly, jerking back a little as if he had startled himself. Hannibal gasped at the contact, and finally Will kissed him in earnest, his lips warm and soft against Hannibal’s lower one.

When Will parted his lips and he sucked at Hannibal’s for a second, he felt a tear rolling down his own cheek.

“I wasn’t sure why you were behaving that way. I suspected, but…” Will said, and he pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “It was your name, wasn’t it?”

“Hearing my name from _your_ lips again…” Hannibal clarified, and he ventured to lift his hands. He cupped Will’s cheeks slowly with both hands, waiting to see if the man would move away. He didn’t. “I didn’t dare to believe it, but it gave me hope... That maybe you could feel the same way someday.”

Will gripped Hannibal’s shirt at both sides and pulled him closer again, their lips so close that Hannibal felt Will’s breath over his mouth.

“Hannibal… I do,” he said, and then he snorted a soft, musical laugh. “I _do_ feel the same way, don’t you see it?”

Hannibal smiled before closing the space between them, this time kissing Will without fearing he would frighten him. Hannibal gripped a few of his curls gently on the back of his head and tilted his face to deepen the kiss. But it was Will, oh magnificent Will, who slipped his tongue into Hannibal’s mouth, sending his heart somersaulting inside his chest as nothing had ever managed before. Hannibal moaned into the kiss and Will pulled back again, but when Hannibal searched for signs of discomfort or hesitation, he only found the hint of a smile.

“Would you mind terribly…” Will started to ask, pausing to swallow as he gulped for air, “if we skipped dinner?”

“Will…” Hannibal said, but nothing else, because there were truly no words. Of course he didn’t mind, of course he would skip every single meal until he starved to death if it meant being with Will even for a second.

Will smiled broadly and got up then. Hannibal was unable to move as Will licked his own lips and then took Hannibal’s hand in his, pulling gently until he was somehow up out of the chair and walking out of the dining room as Bach’s melody and Will’s hand guided his steps.

Will led him upstairs and into his own bedroom, the bigger one. Hannibal had only seen it once in pictures when he had acquired the house, and he had wanted to respect Will’s privacy when they had settled there. But even his natural curiosity couldn’t make him look away from Will as he dropped Hannibal’s hand and turned around in the center of the room, as if he were a beautiful mythical creature standing in the middle of a forest.

“Tell me again,” he asked Hannibal.

That time he didn’t restrain himself, and so he approached Will, though his movements were still slow and hesitant. Hannibal lifted a hand and ran two fingers from his shoulder down his upper arm until he met Will’s hand again. Hannibal took it and brought it to his mouth, where he pressed his lips softly against the knuckles.

“I love you,” he said against Will’s skin.

Will breathed out and smiled again. And then he grabbed Hannibal’s hand with his and pulled him closer. Their mouths clashed that time in a much more urgent kiss, lips, teeth and tongue desperate for the other. Hannibal wrapped an arm around Will’s waist to press their bodies together as Will groaned into the kiss and circled his shoulders to deepen the kiss even more.

When Will pulled back, he started unbuttoning his own shirt without looking away from Hannibal’s eyes. But, much to his regret, Hannibal put both hands over Will’s, stilling him.

“We don’t have to do anything hastily, Will.”

Will’s lips curved in a smile, and he nodded.

“I know. And we won’t…”

He kept unbuttoning his shirt, and so Hannibal’s hands fell from Will’s, letting him do as he pleased. When Will pulled the shirt off his arms and dropped it to the floor, Hannibal’s gaze fell to his chest. It wasn’t the first time he was seeing Will without any clothes, but it was the first time Will was showing himself to Hannibal of his own accord, and not because of the circumstances. And it was certainly the first time Hannibal would let his gaze linger and not in a clinical way.

Hannibal raised his hand hesitantly, and he brushed four fingers across Will’s lower stomach, feeling the long ago healed scar underneath his fingertips. Will’s breath hitched at the touch, and he put a hand over Hannibal’s, pressing the palm against his mark.

When he looked up, a fierce creature and the gentlest one at the same time was returning his gaze. Will bit his lower lip before starting to undo Hannibal’s shirt, and so the music they had left downstairs elevated in his mind, the Aria filling every single space, the room vanishing around them and new walls rising as Will’s fingers descended.

Hannibal didn’t register his own movements as they undressed each other, his mind filled with the overwhelming sensations; the feeling of Will’s smooth skin and firm muscles rippling underneath his hands, the sound of their heavy breaths almost silencing the music in his mind, the exquisite taste of Will’s lips and his clean scent…

When Will unbuttoned Hannibal’s pants and let them slide down, he suddenly stopped and gazed down, dragging a hand across Hannibal’s chest.

“I never considered this… Never imagined us doing _anything_ like this,” Will said as he looked up at him again, his fingers lingering on the skin of his stomach. “Until I realized what you felt for me. And then I started reconsidering… everything…”

Hannibal swallowed thickly, and then Will circled him and went to the bed, sitting on the edge wearing only a pair of black underwear. Hannibal stepped out of his pants and followed him, kneeling on the floor before him. Will grabbed him by the nape and Hannibal didn’t stop himself that time, leaning in to kiss every inch of skin he could find. Hannibal wanted to observe Will as he deserved, memorize every single part of his body, every single freckle and muscle. But instead of committing his sight to memory, he let his hands and lips explore Will’s chest and stomach until he reached his clothed erection.

Will was panting and moaning with every one of his touches, so Hannibal pulled back to meet his gaze, ready to accept that this would be where Will would draw the line. Will bit his lower lip, and then he surprised Hannibal once again by nodding.

Hannibal hooked his thumbs under Will’s underwear, and Will lifted his hips as he pulled them off. Will used the movement to push himself up to the center of the bed, and Hannibal crawled after him. Hannibal returned to kissing his skin again, dragging his lips down across the expanse of his chest, soft brushes that made Will shiver.

Hannibal reached out to take Will’s cock in a tentative touch, and Will gasped when he felt Hannibal’s fingers on him. But in answer, Will spread his thighs even more at the touch and groaned as Hannibal dragged his hand up to the head. Hannibal swallowed Will’s moan into a new kiss, and then pulled back to observe the man arching his back against the mattress.

“Tell me what you want, Will,” Hannibal murmured as he kept massaging him.

Will opened his eyes, which he had closed when Hannibal had started touching him, and fixed them on Hannibal, a lust-dazed, heavy lidded look that made Hannibal’s cock twitch.

“Your… your mouth,” Will said; barely a whisper, though it resonated in Hannibal’s ears as loud as a bell’s pealing.

It took him a couple of seconds to react, and when the words fully soaked in, Hannibal let out a long sigh and kissed Will again, a little more urgent, a little deeper.

When Hannibal made his way down, he observed him for a brief moment, splayed beneath him and his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. Finally, he took his erection again and pressed his lips softly against the head. The heady taste of Will’s arousal filled his mouth immediately, Hannibal realizing the moan he had heard was from both Will and himself. Then, Hannibal licked a long stripe from root to tip right before completely wrapping him with his mouth. Will cried out and bucked his hips up, which Hannibal accepted gladly, taking more of him.

Hannibal pulled back and sucked in earnest, earning another long moan out of Will, but when he licked across the underside and pressed his tongue against the slit, Will’s hand found its way to Hannibal’s head, where he fisted a handful of hair. Hannibal looked up at him for a moment, at the exquisite, breathless creature before him. Will seemed as mesmerized as he was, but he loosened his grip on his hair to trace the scar Hannibal had on his cheekbone with his thumb.

“I was trying to fight so many things about myself, Hannibal… Not anymore.”

Hannibal couldn’t help but smile, feeling his chest swelling with all the implications of what Will was saying. Will pulled one of his knees up, his inner thigh brushing Hannibal’s ribcage.

“Tell me again…” Will asked him once more when Hannibal started the movement of his hand again.

Hannibal held his breath for a moment. “I love you,” he whispered. He could say it a million times; it could be the only thing he said ever again… and it would still mean the world every single time.

Will wriggled a little beneath him, and so Hannibal descended to swallow him once more. Will’s hand returned to his hair, accompanying the bobbing of his head but not altering his movements at all.

“Oh, fuck,” Will cried out, and Hannibal stilled for a moment. “Don’t- don’t stop. Hannibal, don’t…”

Will stopped talking, because Hannibal acquiesced, swallowing even more of him as he pressed his thumb against his perineum. Will came hot and hard on Hannibal’s mouth when he sucked upwards as Will cried out his name once again, and Hannibal lapped at him until he was completely spent.

Hannibal pushed himself up over Will as the other was still trying to catch his breath, and he did take a moment to memorize the sight of him breathless and sated underneath him, curls damp and wild on his forehead, eyes locked on Hannibal’s, lips red and wet.

And as always, Will surprised him yet again when he pushed him aside and put himself on top of Hannibal. Will’s eyes traveled from Hannibal’s face down to his chest, and finally stopped over Hannibal’s still clothed and untouched erection.

“Will…”

 _You don’t have to do anything_ , Hannibal wanted to say. _What we just did is more than enough_ , and it would’ve been purely the truth. But in that moment Will descended to his lips for a new kiss, his chest against Hannibal’s, and his hand palming Hannibal’s cock over his underwear. Hannibal gasped into the kiss, and Will stopped only to deepen it, tilting his head and biting Hannibal’s bottom lip before kissing him again.

Will moved his pressed palm up and down against his erection, but soon, even if Hannibal would’ve never complained or asked more from him, Will was the one who shifted above him, taking his underwear and yanking it down his thighs, discarding it in a couple of tugs. Will seemed even more in a hurry than Hannibal, because as soon he turned to him, his hand returned to his cock, wrapping it and starting to drag it up and down.

Hannibal cupped Will’s cheek with one of his hands, burying his fingertips in his hair. Will leaned into the touch, and then, as if suddenly shy, he buried his face in the crook of Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal felt so many things at the same time, he couldn’t focus on a single one. The drag of Will’s fingers along his cock, Will’s forehead and nose bridge pressed underneath his jaw, his breath against his skin, Will’s other hand on his side, as if for support…

It was sloppy and careless, their bodies not entirely aligned, not enough space between them for Will to move his hand freely… and yet, it was entirely perfect.

“Hannibal…” Will said in his ear, a whisper that almost sounded like a moan.

It was enough to unleash his own orgasm, lighting up from the deepest corner and traveling all the way across his body, crawling underneath his skin in an intense wave. When Will’s hand stilled, he realized he was cupping Will’s nape and gripping his waist, both of them holding each other closely.

When they could disentangle from each other, Will fell onto the mattress. Hannibal kept his eyes closed for a while as he fought to catch his breath, listening intently to Will’s too. In that moment, he felt something on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see Will curling up to his side, draping an arm over his chest. Will looked up at him then, an innocent expression on his face, and Hannibal felt himself falling in love all over again.

“You know…” Will said. “Dinner will be cold by now, but how about we go clean ourselves and then we have a piece of that apple pie you made?”

“May I suggest an alternative to the second part of that idea?”

“Please,” Will said.

“I could bring the pie here instead. It’s… practical.”

Will smiled and shrugged a little. “I didn’t say we had to eat it downstairs…”

Hannibal beamed at him, and he pressed his forehead against Will’s, cupping his cheek before tilting his head to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yY0BRQbpIe0) is the song mentioned in the fic.
> 
> Hope you've liked this! :)  
>  
> 
> \----
> 
> All information + links about my writing are [here](https://about.me/mizumohno).
> 
> Say hello to me @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/mizumohno) and [tumblr](http://starkaryen.tumblr.com/) :)


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